


Mistletoe

by ebbj9891



Series: In Quest Of Something [63]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Monogamy, POV Daphne Chanders, POV Lindsay Peterson, Post-Series, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbj9891/pseuds/ebbj9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the family reunite for Christmas in Pittsburgh, they discover that Brian and Justin can't keep their hands off each other. Lindsay thinks it's wonderful; Daphne discovers there's a little more to it than meets the eye. Told from their POVs, this is set a few months after Exclusive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lindsay

"Ahem. A- _hem."_

"They're not listening," Mel warns Michael, who is aggressively clearing his throat in Brian and Justin's general direction. Mel's right, it's not making any difference; they're oblivious to anyone or anything but each other. They're in a world of their own, and for the past twenty minutes, that world has involved a _lot_ of kissing.

If you ask me, it's quite a feat for them to have shut out their surroundings. The diner is packed and Christmas songs are blaring alongside the roar of conversation. Behind the counter, Deb is laughing uproariously with a group of regulars. Yet, despite facing some serious competition, our little group is making the most noise of all. After all, it's been months since we've all been together and we're all excited to catch up. We're especially excited that this is a catch up free of children - Drew and Blake have kindly rounded up the kids and have taken them to a movie. Combine all of that excitement with Deb having made our coffees Irish, and things have become _very_ rowdy. Yet, despite all the noise, Brian and Justin are consumed with their marathon make-out session.

As Michael tries clearing his throat again, I flip to the next page of my sketchbook and start sketching our little gathering: Michael, Ben, and Emmett on one side of the booth, Ted and Mel and me seated on chairs at the end of the booth, and the four-handed, two-tongued hybrid of Brian and Justin on the other side of the booth, plastered together between me and Daphne. There's barely room to breathe, it's so crowded. Brian and Justin have clearly decided to solve that problem by deciding not to breathe at all. I've been keeping my eye on them since Michael commenced his throat-clearing and I haven't seen them break for a breath yet. Truth be told, I'm starting to worry about their oxygen supplies.

"Ahem!" 

"Leave them be," Emmett says, smiling at them affectionately. "They're newlyweds in love."

I quite agree, personally. It might be over the top by some people's standards, but I'm touched by how in love Brian and Justin look.

"They've been married for four years," Michael says, scowling at Emmett, "Four years is well past 'newlyweds'. There's no excuse for this!"

"It's just what they do. There's no stopping it." Daphne pokes Justin in the back, but this sees absolutely no reaction from Justin. "See? They're unflappable."

"Well, they need to be... flapped," Michael grumbles. " _A-hem!"_

Miraculously, this grabs Brian's attention. He breaks away from Justin and barks, "Do you need a lozenge or something?"

Michael bristles. Daphne giggles a little, trying but failing to hide it. Justin pushes his glass of water across the table. "Here, have a sip of this."

Then he returns his attention to Brian. "Where were we?"

"You're in the diner," Michael says sternly, "And people are staring."

"We get that a lot," Brian smirks, "We bring excitement to their tedious little lives."

Justin snickers and crushes his mouth against Brian's again. Michael snipes, "Public displays of affection are one thing. This is a little over the top, don't you think?"

"Who said we're trying to display affection?" Brian grins lewdly and gropes Justin, who yelps and laughs. They resume kissing.

"I'm going to side with Michael on this one," Mel puts in. She reaches across me to grab the back of Brian's shirt and pulls him away from Justin. "We hardly ever have time together as a group anymore; the least you two could do is try to keep your tongues and hands to yourselves and pay attention to the conversation."

She gives them both one of her patented death stares. Justin sighs and shifts a fraction away from Brian. Brian rolls his eyes, but he does manage to unweld his hands from deep inside Justin's cardigan. He picks up his cup of coffee, likely trying to busy his restless hands, and grimaces. "This is ice cold."

"That's what you get when you spend thirty minutes playing tonsil hockey," Michael grumbles. 

"Tonsil hockey," Justin laughs. He nudges Daphne. "Oh god, do you remember?"

She dissolves into giggles. "Tonsil hockey! We used to find that phrase fucking hilarious."

"Daph's mom used it once, trying to sound all 'cool'," Justin snorts. "Let's just say it didn't work. Do you really want to sound like Daph's mom, Michael?"

"You really don't," Daphne advises him, shaking her head solemnly. 

Deb comes to refill everyone's cups and eyeballs Brian and Justin curiously. "So you two finally tired yourselves out, huh?"

"Not possible," Brian drawls.

"We were  _ever_ so 'kindly'," Justin raises his eyebrows pointedly, "Asked to stop."

"I think it's sweet," Deb chuckles, "An old married couple like yourselves still having the hots for each other."

Brian gives her a death glare to rival Mel's. "What did you just call us?"

"We are  _not_ an old married couple," Justin says hotly. Then he grins from ear to ear and adds smugly, "I'm still young."

Brian redirects his death glare towards Justin and announces severely, "I want a divorce."

Justin just laughs and kisses him, which seems to mollify Brian.

"Deb has a point," Ted says, watching them thoughtfully, "Although I'd call it more 'impressive' than 'sweet'."

"Good," Brian says, holding Justin at bay for a moment as he arches a brow at Ted. "Calling us sweet is reason enough for a pink slip, Theodore."

Ted smiles at him. "I realise that. That's why I thought I'd go with impressive. And it really is - for all the time you two have been together, you'd think the spark would have diminished a little. But clearly, it hasn't."

"Clearly," Mel says drily, "You've been shoving it in our faces all evening."

Emmett leans forward, propping his chin atop his interlocked hands. He regards Brian and Justin curiously. "Things must have slowed down just an incy little bit."

"Of course they've slowed down a little," Michael says. "They've been together for a hundred years."

Justin frowns. "Why would that slow us down?"

"Because that's what typically happens," Ted says matter-of-factly. I almost laugh out loud - the word 'typical' has never applied to Brian and Justin, and I doubt it ever will. Brian glances at me, noticing that I'm stifling laughter, and looks similarly amused.

"I'm sure it's happened to some extent," Ben chuckles, "There is no way you two are having the same amount of sex you used to."

Justin looks at Brian inquisitively. "We're still having the same amount, right?"

He shrugs. "I'd say so."

"I'd believe it," Daphne adds, rolling her eyes. "Jeez, try spending a weekend with them and you'll see what I mean."

Justin shrugs. "I wouldn't be surprised if we were having more."

"Really?" Ben looks startled. " _More?"_

"Maybe."

Emmett cocks his head and asks curiously, "How much sex  _do_ you two have?"

Brian and Justin look at each other. Ben guesses, "Ten times a week?"

Brian scoffs. "Do I look like I'm sitting here with the worst case of blue balls in recorded history?"

Sounding dubious, Ben guesses again, "Fifteen times?"

Looking at Ben with utmost horror, Brian snarks, "Again I ask the question."

"Daph, pass me a napkin," Justin says, pulling a pen out of his pocket. "This calls for some calculations."

Daphne hands him a napkin and he hunches over it, scribbling intently. Brian leans over his shoulder and nods approvingly.

Mel shakes her head. "I don't believe for one second-"

"Shh, I'm calculating," Justin says, waving his hand at her.

Brian reels around and says firmly, "Let him calculate!"

Mel reluctantly lapses back into silence. I reach and run my hand through her hair, pleased as a soft smile forms on her face. She rests her hand atop my knee, squeezing affectionately. Everyone else is watching with interest as Justin fills the napkin with an intriguing assortment of tables and tallies. He nudges Brian. "Before you criticise, just know I'm being conservative."

"Conservative?" Brian laughs. "You?"

"I guess I take after my father after all." Justin picks up the napkin and inspects it carefully. He shows it to Brian. "What do you think? I mean, it depends on how one defines 'having sex'... I'm factoring in everything here, not just full blown fucking."

Brian gives it a cursory glance. "Looks close enough to me."

Justin nods, then sits up straight. With a very official air, he announces, "I've given it some thought. This excludes the time we spend travelling separately for work and is based on a standard week together in New York. It's a rough estimate; there are weeks where I spend more time at the studio, or where Brian is booked for lunch meetings-"

Ben raises his hand and interjects, "Why do lunch meetings matter?"

"I'll field this one," Ted volunteers. "Having spent some time recently fine-tuning the financials at Kinnetik's New York office, I can say with confidence that Brian spends his lunch breaks in one of two ways: wooing clients at some fancy restaurant, or fucking Justin in his office. Most likely on top of the desk, as I happen to have discovered. _"_

"You should have knocked," Brian says, slowly and simply, as though to a small child, "You've known me long enough to know the importance of knocking before entering."

Ted rolls his eyes. "Yes, boss."

"Mind if I continue?" Clearly eager to return to his findings, Justin clears his throat and resumes his speech. "There are also weeks when Gus is visiting when our batting average is  _significantly_ reduced. But all in all, I would estimate we're fucking at least 30 times a week."

"That's ridiculous," Emmett cries, laughing.

"It  _is_ ridiculous," Brian agrees, snatching the napkin. He peers at it with clear distaste. "You've gone from 'your father' to 'my mother' on the conservative scale, Sunshine."

"It's an overly cautious estimation, I'll give you that," Justin tucks his pen back inside his pocket. "But if you averaged it across the year..."

"You two are full of shit," Michael says, shaking his head at them. "I don't buy that at all."

"Seriously, spend a weekend with them," Daphne urges. "You'll buy it."

Looking slightly guilty, Justin nudges her and says earnestly, "We do slow down a little when you're around."

"Can I say something?" I ask, putting down my pencil and raising my hand. Everyone turns to me. "I think that all of the rest of us can agree things have slowed down a little over the years."

As Mel hums in agreement beside me, I scan the rest of the group. Michael and Ben nod. Emmett pauses, then pinches his fingers together and mouths to me,  _just a little._ Ted shrugs. 

"It's what happens as you grow older and have children," I explain. "But even though Justin and Brian are fathers - and  _wonderful_ fathers at that - they don't have Gus full time. And Justin is only thirty-two, so the age rule probably doesn't apply here."

"It sure doesn't," Brian boasts, smirking. "I always knew involving myself with someone younger would pay off."

"You know," Mel laughs, "I used to spend a lot of time criticising you for picking up a  _seventeen-year-old._ Clearly I should have been praising you for being so innovative."

"Brian's a very forward-thinking individual," Justin says, grinning. 

"That's a new one," Daphne pokes Justin's side playfully. "I've heard you call Brian a  _lot_ of things over the years, but a 'forward-thinking individual'? That's brand new!"

Brian leans around Justin to smolder at Daphne. "What else has he called me?"

"I've already told you all of them," she says. As they grin at each other and laugh, Justin starts to turn bright red.

"You haven't told the rest of us," Mel points out, eyes gleaming. "Let's hear it."

"Well," Daphne says, beaming, "My personal favourite was-"

Justin covers her mouth with his hand. "Don't you dare! Don't you fucking _dare,_ Daphne Chanders."

As Daphne squirms and laughs through Justin's hand, he shoots a glare at Brian. "You keep your mouth shut, too."

"Unhand Daphne and you'll have yourself a deal."

Justin unclamps his hand from her mouth and wraps an arm around her, squeezing her close and kissing her cheek. Daphne rests her head on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Ben is analysing Justin's calculations, peering at the napkin with fascination. "Once every morning?  _Every_ morning?"

"We get up and shower together," Justin explains, grinning slyly at Brian. "Also, sometimes we choose sex over breakfast. We feel it does more to nourish us."

I must say, this conversation seems to be doing wonders for Brian's ego. He's grinning from ear to ear, looking immensely pleased with himself. I kick his leg and shake my head at him, but his smug smile only grows.

"I don't know where you find the time," Ben wonders. 

Emmett leans over Ben's shoulder and goggles at the tallies, exclaiming, "Forget time - how in God's name do you have the energy?"

"Again, I'm only in my thirties. I'm not an elderly person like the rest of you." Justin ducks a smack that Brian aims at his head. "And despite his advancing years, Brian is young at heart."

The smug grin vanishes. Brian fixes Justin with a livid expression, one which would have most people running for the hills. But Justin is unfazed; he grins wickedly at Brian, which succeeds in provoking more fury.

"Melanie," Brian seethes, "I do believe I'm going to be needing your services. My husband is just  _begging_ to be divorced."

"Please," Mel smirks, "I'd so represent Justin."

"You won't need to. Brian's stuck with me." Justin kisses Brian's neck and whispers something in his ear, which brings a smile back to Brian's face. He winds his arm around Justin's waist, looking most contented as Justin continues peppering kisses up and down Brian's neck.

"I'm guessing Sunday is your day off," Ben says, holding up the napkin and pointing to a sharp increase in Justin's tallies. Justin nods, then whispers something to Brian again. They burst out laughing.

"Well, mazel tov," Mel says, raising her coffee cup. "Ted's right - it's impressive."

"That is if we're to believe it's true," Michael says, frowning at the napkin suspiciously.

"It is," Justin insists, a slight scowl darkening his features. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

I'm not too sure Justin is going to be receptive to whatever Michael has to say at this point, so I jump in and say, "I wouldn't be surprised if this was your main love language."

Mel nods enthusiastically. "Yes! You're right, Linz. Physical touch is these two to a tee."

Perking up with intrigue, Justin inquires, "Love language?"

"It's a book," Ben explains, "Which posits there are five key love languages. Physical touch is one of them. That would be you two, don't you think?"

"I think if I hear the words 'love language' one more time," sneers Brian, "I'm going to barf."

I swat his arm. "It's a great book!"

"Eh," Ted shrugs. "It's an okay book. But I doubt you'd go for it, Bri."

"Is it one of those incredibly dykey books that you two are always hoarding?" Brian wrinkles his nose at me and Mel. "If so, keep it far the fuck away from me."

"I think our..." Justin glances at Brian, then mouths  _love language_ at me through cupped hands, "... would be physical touch. Thank you, Linz. That's a great point."

I smile at him, warmed when he returns it brightly. "You're welcome, honey."

"That's all well and good if that's your love language," Michael says, laughing and ducking as Brian lodges a sugar cube at him. "But you don't have to sit in the diner  _screaming_ it, okay?"

I swear I see Justin nudge Brian, but it's so quick I can't be sure. It wouldn't surprise me, though, if they've just silently struck a deal to cease making out in the diner and are planning to reconvene elsewhere.

They smile innocently at Michael and agree, "Okay."

I find their cheerfulness to be very suspect, but Michael seems placated.

"You might want to hold onto this," Ben says as he slides Justin's napkin across the table. "It really is impressive."

"Maybe we should frame it," Justin suggests, laughing.

"Not until you get your sums right," Brian chides, but he still takes the napkin and tucks it neatly into his shirt pocket. "We'll revisit these later."

"Let's get back to talking Christmas," Emmett suggests, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. "Who got the kids what? Who got  _me_ what? Daphne, Justin: are you two making those incredible cookies again this year?"

"One question as a time, Em," Mel says with a warm smile.

"Yes, we'll be making the cookies again, Em. It's our Christmas tradition!" Daphne grins.

"How adorable," Brian drawls.

"Tease all you want," Daphne says, smiling at him knowingly. "You ate half the batch last year."

Brian rolls his eyes, but doesn't bother denying it. He knows full well there were several witnesses to this, including Gus, who never lets anyone get away with anything. I think he may even have some very incriminating photos of Brian's cookie binge; I may have to find them and email them to Brian at some stage.

Daphne tugs Justin's sleeve. "Tomorrow afternoon: you, me, cookie dough, decorations galore. Sound good?"

"Sounds great. I'll be there." He kisses her cheek again and they start teasing Emmett with tempting details.

Leaning in towards me, Brian asks, "What did you two get Gus this year?" 

With the four-armed, two-tongued hybrid successfully vanquished (at least for the timebeing), Christmas discussions resume. With my sketch of the group finished, I turn the page and look around, trying to decide what to sketch next. Deb at the counter, cheerfully serving Christmas cake? Emmett laughing with Ben and Michael? Daphne and Justin whispering and giggling together? Mel and Ted, passing their phones back and forth to show off pictures of the kids? 

As Brian tells me what he and Justin chose for Gus this year, I catch his left hand gravitating toward's Justin's right under the table. As Brian grasps Justin's hand, Justin latches on and pulls their clasped hands to his mouth to kiss Brian's knuckles. Then he drops their hands down to rest on his thigh. There's something very heartwarming about this brief, seemingly small gesture. It's not obvious like their marathon make-out session; it's subtle, and intimate, and incredibly beautiful.

I press my pencil to the page and start to sketch.


	2. Daphne

Something is up with Brian and Justin.

Those two can't fool me. They're smug enough to think they can, but they can't. I've known Justin for almost three decades; not that I think he's ever really tried to, but he can't hide shit from me. I might call him my best friend, but I do believe I've also earned the right to call him my big, open book. One with pretty pictures and extra large print, because that's how easy it is to read him. Brian's the same story. They are really, incredibly obvious a whole lot of the time. And tonight it is really, incredibly, ultra-transparently obvious that something is afoot.

I just can't quite figure out what.

It's starting to irk me. Normally I can figure Justin out at a glance (maybe a couple of glances, tops). But I've been covertly watching him all day and I still can't puzzle this one out. I know something's going on. I know something's different. But exactly what that might be is a total mystery. And since he and Brian are superglued to each other, I haven't had the chance to interrogate either one of them.

This is what I know so far: I know their touchy-feely-gropeyness has increased exponentially. I know Justin has been making doe-eyes at Brian almost constantly. I know they keep whispering things to each other and that whatever they're saying has been making Justin blush like crazy. I know they are both stupidly, giddily, ridiculously happy. And I  _know_ there is more to that than meets the eye. But these scraps of anecdotal evidence are not enough - I need to corner Justin and get him to 'fess up.

Fortunately, it looks like I might soon get a chance to do just that. Everyone is totally fed up with Brian and Justin's ceaseless smooching and I'm sure someone is going to put a stop to it soon. Having declared the scene unsuitable for children, Michael, Ben, Ted, Blake and Drew have whisked most of the kids off to go ice-skating. Gus and JR declined the invitation, opting to stay in where it's warmest. Right now we're all seated around the dining table at Jen's; Gus is writing a novel of some sort (he stubbornly refuses to tell anyone what it's about), JR and I have been painting each other's nails, and Mel, Linds, and Emmett are onto their third game of Go Fish. Brian and Justin have taken over the couch, above which Jen has hung a sprig of mistletoe. She has been chastised for this because, evidently, Brian and Justin have taken it as a free pass to do as they please. When Deb threatened to tear it down, she was informed by Brian at his smuggest that  _mistletoe is a state of mind._

"There's not even anywhere to run," Mel gripes, glaring at the two of them. It's true - Deb and Jen have banned anyone from coming upstairs as they're in the midst of last-minute Christmas Eve gift-wrapping. Jen is as infamous as Deb is for her Christmas cheer, so there's hardly room to move with all the decorations she's put up around the house. As such, we're all stuck here with front-row seats to Brian and Justin's determined attempt to break the world-record for continuous kissing. I don't mind, honestly - I'm used to their smoochy antics and adore seeing them both so exuberantly happy. But it would appear I'm pretty much on my own, because everyone else is becoming increasingly moody. Even Linds is starting to look a little fed up, but I think that's more to do with Mel and Emmett's incessant bitching than anything else.

"Now this one," JR says to me, handing over a bottle of ruby-red nail polish. "Pretty, right?"

"Very pretty," I agree. We've been painting each other's nails so they're all Christmasey - mine are white and red, JR's are a mish-mash of every conceivable Christmas colour. 

Emmett cranes his neck to have a look. "They look gorgeous, sweetie."

JR beams. "Thanks, Uncle Em."

"I'll tell you what doesn't look gorgeous," Mel mutters.

Linds pats Mel's arm. "Ignore them."

"They're practically-" Mel glances at Gus and JR and reconsiders her wording. "Someone needs to put a stop to it, that's all."

"I'll give it the old college try," Emmett says. He cups his hands around his mouth and calls, "Excuse me! Lovebirds! It's time to leave the nest."

They ignore him. Emmett huffs and tries again: "Last night was one thing. You were in the presence of adults then. But now there are children in the room!"

"I'm  _not_ a child," Gus interjects moodily. "I'm fifteen!"

"But you are  _their_ child," Emmett says. Pointing at Gus dramatically, he announces, "Hey! Your son is sitting right here and you're traumatising him!"

Brian and Justin glance over at Gus, looking vaguely guilty. Gus shrugs and smiles at them, looking totally untraumatised. 

"I don't mind," he says, "It's nice that they're still so in love."

Reassured they're not doing any harm, Brian and Justin return to kissing. 

"That was not the response I was looking for," Emmett grumbles.

"Gus, I'm disappointed in you," Mel scolds, "You were our only hope."

He simply grins at her and returns to writing in his notebook. I finish JR's left hand and she holds it up, admiring it with a big grin. "Moms, look!"

Linds and Mel peer at her hand. JR wiggles her fingers, making them sparkle under the light. "Daphne gave me Christmas nails."

"They're beautiful," Linds comments, smiling at me. "Say thank you, JR."

"Thanks Aunty Daph," she says, beaming at me. 

I ruffle her hair. "You're welcome, honey."

Gus taps me on the shoulder. "Will you give me Christmas nails?" 

"Sure thing."

"Copycat," JR grouses, but she hands him the bag of nail polishes anyway. "I think you should have silver, Gus. Silver and emerald green! Daph can do your right hand and I'll do your left. Okay?"

"Okay, cool," he says, still nose-deep in his notebook. "Just let me finish this chapter."

There's a sudden rustle of movement from over on the couch. Brian has pulled Justin into his lap. I'm surprised it's taken this long for straddling to enter the mix. They're normally much quicker to reach that point. Mel and the others also look surprised, but not in a good way.

"Oh, for f-" Mel glances at the kids and purses her lips, reconsidering her phrasing once again. "For goodness' sake, this needs to stop."

She stands up, hands on her hips. Mel’s awesome scary when she wants to be. The looks she gives people (mostly Brian, in my experience) deserve a capital L for how terrifying they are. This Look is no exception. I wish I could appear even half as intimidating as she does right now. Maybe I can ask her for tips later. In a voice so icy it's honestly bone-chilling, Mel calls across the room, " _Brian._ "

It's the kind of tone you'd be foolish to ignore. Brian's smart enough to pay attention, and thank god for that - I don't want to know what Mel would do if she'd been ignored. As Brian turns his head to look at her, Justin latches onto his neck. Brian asks lazily, "What?"

"Get up, you're taking me to the store."

It's an order, not a request. Brian, today's designated driver, frowns. "What the f-"

Mel glares at him. He rolls his eyes and amends, "What  _on earth_ do you need from the store?"

"You guys know we know what the f-word is, right?" Gus glances up from his notebook, regarding Mel and Brian with disdain. "JR and I aren't babies anymore, you can say 'fuck'. It's not like it's going to land you in jail, or us in therapy. Jeez."

JR starts giggling helplessly. Mel breathes in, like she’s collecting herself, and then says in a measured tone, "Gus, don't start. Brian, don't question me. Get your coat, we're going to the store."

"Give me one good reason," he challenges her.

Mel glowers at him. "Because I said so." 

"I asked for a  _good_ reason," Brian retorts petulantly. Gus snickers. Mel looks about ready to rip his throat open with her bare hands.

"Brian," Linds interjects, softly. She gestures to the empty cocktail glasses we've been amassing. "It's your turn. Please?"

He glances between her and Mel and sighs. I'm not too sure whether it's Linds' gentle plea or Mel's terrifying death glare that convinces him, or a combination of the two, but he eases Justin off him and gets up to retrieve his coat. There is some eye-rolling involved, which prompts more laughter from Gus, but Mel seems content.

That is, until, Justin suggests brightly, "I'll come too. You might need an extra pair of hands to... carry stuff."

He waggles his eyebrows at Brian, who grins wolfishly in return. 

"We'll be fine," Mel assures him, somewhat sharply. "You stay here where it's warm."

Justin takes another step towards the door. "I don't mind the cold."

"You've been drinking," Mel says, midway through pushing Brian out the door.

Bewildered, Justin objects, "But I wouldn't be driving! And  _you've_  been-"

"Justin,  _stay,"_ Mel commands forcefully, as if to a puppy in training. It's a tone that brooks no argument. Justin sighs and flops back onto the couch.

Here's my chance. Time to squeeze the truth out of him. I stand up and call, "Justin, come help me with the cookies."

He glances at me idly.

"Yes!" Emmett nods enthusiastically. "Cookies! Justin, go help her with the cookies. I've been waiting all year, don't keep me waiting a moment longer."

I beckon him towards the kitchen. Justin sighs and heaves himself up off the couch, following me with an air of dejection. He's clearly suffering from kissing withdrawal. Somewhat sullenly, he asks, "Where do you want me?"

"It's frosting time!" I guide him to his station at the kitchen counter. "Stop your moping and get to work."

He flops down and grabs the bowl of frosting. Channelling Mel's awesome scariness, I give him a Look. "Justin Taylor, don't you dare eat that."

Justin grins at me and dips two fingers in the bowl, scooping up a heap of the buttercream. He licks it off slowly, taunting me with his evil smile. I swat him around the head. "Save some for the cookies!"

"I will," he mumbles, through a second mouthful of frosting. "I'm just making sure it's good."

"Is it?"

"It's delicious."

"Then cut it out," I laugh, batting his greedy hands away from the bowl, "And let's start frosting."

Halfway through frosting a candy-cane shaped cookie, Justin's phone buzzes. He grabs it and reads the message, blushing as he does so, a huge grin sweeping across his face. "Brian is such a perv."

"You two never stop, do you?"

Justin shakes his head, biting his lip as he texts Brian back. Then he sets the phone aside and returns to the task at hand, humming as he pipes frosting onto the cookies.

Before I commence my interrogation, I pause to take a look at Justin. His face is all flushed and his hair's still a mess from where Brian was grabbing it. I'm so not going to even start on how the buttons on his shirt are buttoned totally unevenly, nor am I going to bother speculating about why that might be. It's Christmas Eve, the house has been brimming with holiday cheer and bustling with holiday chaos; Brian and Justin have had plenty of opportunities to sneak off, and sneak off I'm sure they did. What really grabs me isn't Justin's flushed face, his disheveled hair, or his incriminating botched buttons - it's his smile, which is brighter than I've ever seen it. After our billion-odd years of friendship, his smile is one of the most familiar things in the world. Over the past fifteen years he's been with Brian, I've seen him happy, happier than happy, and happier than I ever thought anyone could be, but today he seems to have transcended all of that. He looks like he's about to burst with joy.

I drag my stool closer to his, until our shoulders are bumping. I nudge him and insist, "You need to tell me what's up."

"What do you mean?" He asks, with an abysmal affectation of innocence. 

"Um, you and Brian? All the kissing? All the cuddling?"

"We're always kissing and cuddling," Justin laughs. "You know that."

"This is different." I eyeball him intently. "I  _know_  something's going on."

"Maybe," he shrugs, a faint blush spreading over his face.

"Maybe? Try definitely. Tell me what's up!"

"Okay," he grins. He glances at the door and lowers his voice cautiously, "Something is up. But you can't tell  _anyone._ Not a single soul."

"I would never!"

Justin smiles adoringly at me. "I know, Daph. But this one has to go  _deep_ into the vault. Like, we need a vault within the vault... within another, much larger vault. Okay?"

I hold up my pinky finger to him. He locks his around mine and we solemnly perform the ever-so-sacred pinky swear. Then he pushes the trays of cookies away and turns so he's fully facing me. I do the same, because apparently this is Serious Business. Justin laughs again, scrunching his nose. "You're so not going to believe it."

He glances at the door again, then dips his voice to a whisper as he says, "You know a couple of months back, how Brian was getting all weird and distant?"

"I can vaguely recall," I say, very somberly, fighting the urge to mock him relentlessly. Justin shoots me a warning glance which I think is supposed to say  _don't you dare bring up my six angsty phone calls where I absolutely freaked out on you and wouldn't listen to a word of reason._ I keep my mouth shut, even though I'm sorely tempted to point out again how ridiculous Justin's crackpot theories were. I mean, really - Brian falling in love with someone else? Easily the most absurd thing I've ever heard.

"Okay, well, I confronted him. He came home really late one night and he was being all avoid-ey and I just lost it. I sort of followed your advice," he frowns, "But not really. I mean, you said to stay cool, calm, and collected, right?

"Right."

"That was good advice in theory. But in practice, I was pissed off and scared shitless."

"So you threw a shit fit?"

"Kinda," he admits, grinning guiltily.

"'Kinda'? Are you forgetting who you're talking to here? Justin Taylor doesn't 'kinda' throw shit fits. He goes full blast."

Justin pulls a face at me. "Okay, yes, I threw a massive shit fit. There was no 'kinda' about it. But it worked! Brian admitted what had been bothering him."

He chooses this pivotal moment to stuff a handful of chocolate drops in his mouth. I pluck a handful out of the bag myself and toss them at him. "Don't hold out on me, Taylor!"

He apologises, glances at the door for about the trillionth time, and then grabs my hands and pulls me a little closer. "Brian wa... okay, are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Yes! Spit it out," I insist. Anticipating his upcoming rejoinder, I instantly note, "And  _don't_ make any lewd jokes about how you normally swallow. A: I know how your twisted brain works, you can't shock me. And B: Stop wasting time and get to the damn point!"

He smirks at me. "Okay, I just hope you're really ready."

"I am, you giant tease. Tell me!"

Justin leans in and whispers in my ear, "Brian wants us to be  _exclusive."_

Okay, I wasn't ready for that. If it weren't for the overjoyed smile lighting up Justin's face, I'd almost wonder if he was kidding. Brian and Justin,  _exclusive?_ Actually, I really think he might be kidding. In total disbelief, I demand, "Are you being serious right now?!"

"Completely," he whispers excitedly, practically glowing. "He said he's tired of being with other men, that it seems pointless, that he can't stop thinking about me or feeling like what he's doing isn't right..."

Justin stops to take a breath, which is probably a good idea. He looks so ecstatic and he's talking so fast that I wouldn't be surprised if he ran out of steam and passed out. Once he's collected himself, he continues, "I had no idea. I knew something was bothering him, but I never would have expected this to be it. Anyway... we talked it all out and agreed to be monogamous."

 _Monogamous._ Otherwise known as the very shocking cherry on top of these surprising revelations. I can feel myself doing a goldfish imitation, but I'm powerless to stop it. "So that's why you two have been fused to each other?"

Nodding eagerly, Justin confides, "I can't keep my hands off him." 

"That's nothing new," I giggle.

"True," he concedes. "But like you said, it's different. This is like... next level. It's a level I didn't know existed."

"So what goes on in this new, exciting level?"

Justin grins fiendishly. "A whole lot of barebacking, for one. You would not belie-"

"Uh-uh! Hold up," I say, raising my hand to silence him. "I'm going to have to insist that we table that conversation."

Pouting, Justin whines, "Why?"

"Because I am all too familiar with your propensity for obscenity. I'm also uncomfortably aware that your son is in the next room over and your mother is upstairs. This isn't the right place or time."

With an eye-roll to rival Brian's, he reluctantly admits, "I  _suppose_  that's a fair point."

"But I could pencil you in for New Year's Eve," I suggest, grinning at his eyes light up. "You, me, cocktail bar? That would be a perfect location for you to divulge all the dirty details."

He squeezes my hands and agrees happily, "Okay." 

"So did you mean what you said at the diner last night? That you two are having  _more_ sex than ever?"

Justin nods. "I seriously think so. Maybe it's because we're now wholly responsible for each other's sexual appetites, but we have  _never_ had this much sex before. It's... constant."

"Wow," I whistle, "You and Brian, exclusive. I'm sorry, it still hasn't sunk in."

He blushes and ducks his head a little. "I don't think it's sunk in for me, either. I never thought he'd want this."

"You never thought you two would get married."

"Yeah," he grins. "The marriage was one thing. This, though..."

Justin laughs softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "At this moment, I am the only person Brian Kinney wants to be with. Fuck! That he would want me that much, trust me that much... I don't even know how to begin describing how great that feels."

"When you say 'at this moment', you mean..."

"I mean, I told him he could change his mind. He said I could do the same. And we agreed we can open things up together from time to time, you know, with other couples or with the occasional trick." 

"So your exclusivity comes with loopholes?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "Because, hey, things might change. And from time to time, we might like to involve other people. We might be married and we might be exclusive, but I don't want locks on our doors. That shouldn't be what our relationship is about."

I ruffle his hair, messing it up even more. "I love how you two see things." 

Justin smiles and bumps his knee against mine. "And I love that you love how we see things. Not everyone is as understanding as you are. That's why we're not telling anyone else."

"You don't think they'll understand?"

"I think..." Justin pauses, his mouth twisting unhappily. "I honestly think that you are the only person who really and truly gets us. Mel and Linds come close, and so does Gus, and maybe even mom and Deb... but none of them know all the details. You do. And you've been completely supportive all along."

"Who's not supportive?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. It's not that they're  _not_  supportive... I just don't think they understand how our relationship works. When we got married, it wasn't about binding ourselves to one another, or moving to the suburbs and having a bunch of kids, or anything like that. More than anything, it was our way of celebrating us."

He falls into an uneasy silence. Because I sense one coming, I gently prompt, "But?"

"But then when we told everyone, there were all of these snarky comments about how I'd succeeded in 'domesticating' Brian. I don't want to domesticate Brian! I wouldn't count that as any sort of a success. I love him for who he is. Then when they found out we were still fucking other people,  _wow..._ I thought Michael's head was going to explode." Justin sighs heavily. "They've been telling us for years everything is going to change, like it's not only inevitable but necessary. I've never been able to understand that. I'm sure as hell not going to give them the satisfaction by telling them we're exclusive. They'll take it as a sign they've won. Besides, it has nothing to do with them."

He grabs the tray of cookies and starts frosting one aggressively. I didn't realise it was possible to look so menacing whilst decorating baked goods, but Justin manages to, impressively so. "And you saw what happened last night! Apparently it's totally unbelievable that Brian and I would still have an active sex life."

"Overly active," I tease, which returns a smile to his face momentarily. But it slips, quickly, and he looks all miserable again. What's more, he returns to attacking the cookies with the frosting. I gently grab his hands and urge, "Put down the cookie and the piping bag before someone gets hurt."

He sort of laughs and relinquishes them, dropping his empty hands into his lap. Since his hair is still an appalling post-makeout mess, I start smoothing it gently. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't even know," he murmurs.

"Sure you do." I give his hair a gentle tug and smile at him. "It's me you're talking to, remember? And trust me - I'm building a vault within the vault, within a much larger vault. Tell me what you're thinking."

Justin glances at the door again. As I finish tidying his hair, I say, "Nobody's listening. It's just us here."

He sighs and leans in close. "I feel like everyone has this idea of who we are. They also seem to have some idea of who we're supposed to become. Or who I'm going to make us become."

He swallows, staring at his wedding ring, and continues, "But I don't want to make Brian do or be anything. We got married because he asked me and we both wanted it. We're exclusive for the same reasons. And just because we closed the door doesn't mean I want to barricade it. I don't ever want our relationship to be about... restrictions."

He says this like it's the filthiest word he's ever uttered, his lip curling derisively.

"So then don't let it be about that! You two are obviously happy. You have been for years. Fuck everyone else." I pause, and reconsider. "Or... don't. Since you're exclusive and all."

He bursts out laughing. I hug him, then get to fixing the buttons on his shirt. "Sorry. This has been bugging me."

"Oh," Justin grins. "I think that was from when Brian-"

"Son in the next room. Mother upstairs." I slap his leg. "Have some decency!"

"Okay," he agrees, very skeptically. "It sounds boring, though, this 'decency' you speak of."

I pick up his piping bag and hold it out of his reach. "Can I trust you with this now? You're not going to weaponise it again, are you?"

He smiles, rolling his eyes. "You can trust me."

As we return to decorating the cookies, Brian and Mel appear, still snarking at each other. It seems Brian is also being encouraged to behave decently. He seems even less receptive than Justin. In fact, he abandons Mel's lecture mid-sentence, dumps the groceries on the counter, and zeroes in on Justin. Mel rolls her eyes at me as Brian practically pounces on him. She stashes the food in the fridge, sighs pointedly, and excuses herself. After kissing him soundly, Brian releases Justin and says, "Hey."

"Hi," Justin grins at him, sliding an arm around his waist. "Miss me?"

"Dreadfully," Brian drawls with a smug smile, "The last thirty minutes were almost unbearable."

Justin laughs and pulls Brian in for another kiss. It's utterly adorable. As they untangle, Brian catches me looking and starts making eyes at me.

"Daphne," he purrs, "What has my beloved been telling you?"

I grin at him knowingly. "All the hot goss."

"Hmmm," Brian raises his eyebrows at me and steals a cookie from the tray.

"Daph won't tell anyone," Justin assures him, smiling at me. "Will you, Daph?"

"It's already in a vault within the vault, within a larger vault," I promise, "As was instructed. I might even add some extra padlocks."

As Brian mouths  _thank you_ at me, Linds appears. She knocks on the doorframe. "Em desperately wants to know how the cookies are coming along."

Justin and I grin at each other and admit in unison, "Slowly."

"They'll be ready sooner if you two help," Justin suggests.

"Sounds like fun." Linds sits down next to me and happily gets to work. She waves a cookie at Brian enticingly. "Come on, you know you want to."

Sneering at her, Brian scoffs, "Are you deranged? Like fuck am I frosting cookies."

Justin smirks. "You normally-"

"Enjoy frosting things?" I finish for him. Justin scowls at me. "I told you: I know how your twisted brain works. You've become very predictable."

"I hate you," he grumbles, while Brian and Linds laugh. Despite this alleged hatred, as Brian sits down and busies himself with absolutely anything other than cookie-decorating, Justin edges closer to me and leans against me. Ever since he moved to New York, I've often experienced moments of painful clarity where I realise how very much I miss him. This is one of them. I turn my head a little and kiss his cheek, and the missing fades a little. It fades a little more when he smiles at me, bigger and brighter than ever.

From the official gift-wrapping quarters upstairs comes a sudden, exuberant cry from Deb: "I fuckin'  _love_ this song!"

This declaration is followed by Deb pumping up the volume on the sound system. The Christmas Song starts blasting throughout the entire house. Brian winces. Justin and Linds start shaking with laughter on either side of me.

I remember once reading something about love, and how it's what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen. We won't be opening presents until tomorrow morning, but I stop for a moment and listen anyway. Gus and JR are shrieking with laughter over something (probably one of Emmett's outrageous stories), Linds is humming along to Deb's ear-splitting music, and Justin is chuckling quietly as Brian whispers something in his ear. There's love everywhere right now, and it's louder than I've ever heard it.

**The End**


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